Weathered Creed
by Charlie Quill
Summary: Harry is Salazars' secret heir. That's all I'm telling you, please read and review.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I do not and will probably never own Harry or any other part of his deliciously fantasy oriented world. But I wish I had a snitch, the fun I could have with one of those…

~Weathered Creed~

Prologue 

Harry stared out the window, vaguely aware of the biting wind as it cut through his robes and froze him to the bones. It was Christmas holiday at Hogwarts and most everyone had left for home this year. All, except Harry. He was in his seventh year: seventeen, tall, and lanky with sleek hair, and piercing green eyes matured with the terrible weight he carried. He was marked man.

Sighing resignedly, the teen slipped from his windowsill perch and shrugging out of his night robe climbed into bed. Staring at the ceiling of the Griffindor boys' quarters he willed himself to sleep. Waking little more than an hour later he got up and paced the room agitated. 

Entering the common room he muttered a spell and sitting down in a comfortably plush chair, watched the flames lick greedily at the dry logs. He watched it for hours, listening to the fire crackle contentedly the wind howling in the background. Summoning a blanket from the cupboard he wrapped himself, trying desperately to escape the cold that plagued him. 

But it wasn't from the frigid winter night, that this coldness came, rather it was from him. His heart was trying to protect itself from another assault like the one that happened in his fifth year. It protected him the only way it knew how, by shutting everything else out. No longer seeking friendship or camaraderie, Harry had blocked out his friends in sixth year, and now as he faced his last year at Hogwarts his heart was beginning to block out everything. All emotion was being forgotten all feeling was leaving him. But he didn't care. If anything, we was more than happy to prove Dumbledore he wasn't human. He didn't want to be anymore. It hurt too much. He walked the corridors like a shadow, a reflection of what he had been. A tainted reflection. 

As he slept, lost to the world of reality in a world of dreams and terrors a silver mist appeared from nothing, swirling strangely in the light. As the fires dimmed in the hearth, the silver mist thickened, condensing into the form of a man. He stood tall; hair black as night and green eyes glittering in the shadows. He said no word as he waved his hand and the silver mist appeared again, this time surrounding the still form of Harry Potter, tendrils of smoke rising from the fireplace. The form uttered a silent word, barely a whisper, and the two vanished from sight, from Hogwarts, from the living.

*~*~*~*~*

Blinking back the sleep, Harry tried to focus his vision and unconsciously moved his left hand to the dresser that usually held his glasses. But halfway there his hand froze he didn't need glasses anymore. The summer of his sixth year had seen to that. A few brief memories of Hermione flicking her wrist and pronouncing an incantation flitted across his mind before he pushed them away. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed he sat up, struck dumb by the sight before him.

The room was lavishly furnished with green, silver, and black colors. Slytherin colors. The furniture was rich oak and dark cherry wood that gleamed with perfection. The bed he sat on had black satin sheets and an ornately designed comforter. His feet brushing the floor he could feel the deep, plush carpet covering the stone floors. Wide-awake now, Harry stared at it all, bewildered.

"Your awake" Mildly surprised; the raven-haired teen regarded the man in the doorway. He was tall, with long black hair that grew past his waste and green eyes that glinted like emeralds. He seemed vaguely familiar, but he couldn't place his face.

"Where am I?" his voice sounded loud, though he spoke in barely a whisper.

"My home" the man answered bitterly, staring malevolently around at the room and it's lavish furnishings.

"Why?"

"Why not?" he countered, unconcerned. 

Harry thought about it, mentally shrugging. Why did he feel so at ease here? Shouldn't he be worried? In a house with a strange man obviously obsessed with House Slytherin wasn't normally where one planned on waking up over Christmas holiday. 

"Who are you?"

"Salazar Slytherin and you, Septimus, are my heir" 

*~*~*~*~*

I know it's short, it's a prologue what did you expect? * stupid grin * More to come, please stay tuned and all that nonsense 


	2. Glamourie

Weathered Creed~

Chapter 1: Glamourie 

Harry sat, shocked. He blinked, rubbed his eyes and shook his head. This had to be a dream, but if it was it was the strangest dream. 

"You must be mistaken, I am Harry Potter, and Salazar Slytherin has been dead for thousands of years!" But even as he said it he got a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He _had _seen the man's face before, in Dumbledore's office. The four founders were placed behind the desk, just above where the headmaster sat. His stomach did strange flip, this _was_ Salazar. 

Salazar gave a strained laugh, "Ah, but I _am_ dead, Harry, and you _are_ Septimus, come and we will talk." 

Following obediently, Harry found himself in a larger room, a large couch and several plush chairs arranged in front of a massive hearth. Sitting down when the man motioned to one of the chairs he sat opposite of the strange wizard. The strange _dead _wizard.

"When I was twenty seven I met and fell in love with a witch named Sylvia. We had one child and lived very happily for three years before she died from health complications. Our daughter, Lydia, grew into a very good witch, married and had a son, Marvalo. I mourned my wife, when I met another woman. Her name was Narcissa." Salazar's hard eyes softened a little when he whispered her name. "We had a son, and he grew into a very powerful wizard under my schooling. Lydia, obsessed with being my sole heir, knew that I favored him over her and vowed to destroy him. 

"Seth, was his name, he knew what his half-sister wanted and wanting to protect his own son, placed the Glamourie curse on himself and his son. He changed the components of his and his son's blood later, altering their appearance, leaving no trace of my influence. Secretly I knew what he had done, and made no move to contact him or any of his children or theirs. 

"I took the secret to my grave, until the Chamber of Secrets was opened and the terror unleashed. I got to know Tom Riddle very well; I studied him and his followers and knew he was the spawn of my first child, Lydia. I knew only my secret heir would be able to stop him. I watched his opposers carefully, but could find not trace. When I came upon a most unusual man. He had black hair and deep eyes, I probed his mind undetected and found the memory I knew my son had wanted to implant upon every one of his heirs. The truth. I watched him carefully, the first of his line to marry a muggle born witch, but I was silent. He had a son, black hair and emerald eyes. I watched in horror as Tom destroyed your family, and when he turned to you I thought for certain my hope would be diminished. But your mother helped you, I must say James did well when choosing her for his wife. She put a simple but powerful spell on you, part of the old magic. So I knew with you, Tom's reign of terror would come to an end. And you've done fine, if I do so say myself. You would have done very well in Slytherin"

"The Sorting Hat told me that as well" Harry answered, still confused about what was happening. "But I begged to be put into anything but Slytherin. Ron told me there wasn't a wizard that hadn't gone bad who was in that house."

Salazar nodded his head, watching his son's heir carefully. "I see, so tell me Harry, are you willing to see what memory my son instilled in his heirs' mind before death took it's toll?"

Harry nodded his head, shrugging feeling somewhat ill at ease.

"Then wait here" Harry watched as the tall, imposing wizard left the room in a swirl of black cloth, only to return a minute later, a pensieve in his hands. 

It was made of black stone, with several different gems imbedded around the sides, glittering in the light eerily. 

"Come here" Harry obeyed, standing up and closing the distance between them in a few long strides. "Sit" He complied. Salazar took out his wand and muttered an incantation while looking Harry straight in the eye, refusing to bat an eye. When finished with the spell he commanded Harry to take out his own wand and press it to his temple, focusing on the name 'Septimus'. 

Harry felt a cool hand on his forehead, a voice speaking softly in his ear. Slowly a swirl of memories filled his mind, forcing him to take a step back, gasping in surprise. A second hand gripped his shoulder, keeping him in place while the memories of someone else's' life danced across his mind. How long he stood like that, Harry wasn't sure but when he felt the cool hand draw away he blinked his eyes open. The cool hand wrapped itself around his wrist tugging away the wand. "Focus" Salazar reminded. He felt something slip away from him, leaving a blank hole where he had been focusing. "Open your eyes"

Harry watched as the founder of Slytherin placed a silvery substance into the basin of the pensieve before returning his wand back to him. When motioned to come forward he glanced down at the single strand of silver curiously. "Now watch"

Harry felt himself fall into the silver mist before coming face to face with James Potter. He looked around wildly for a moment, surely this was a cruel joke of some sort. A hand on his shoulder caused him to jump, before turning around to face Salazar. The wizard motioned to watch what was happening, and confused, Harry complied. 

__

"Hello, Harry"

"Dad?" he asked perplexed. The image smiled sadly. __

"Yes Harry. I am a memory of your father, implanted in your mind until the right time in which the secret would be told."

"I'm Salazar Slytherins' heir?"

"Yes Harry, but there is more. You need to stay with Salazar until you have completed your training, you are the one who can defeat the Dark Lord"

"No pressure" Harry said bitterly, eyes flashing. James looked sympathetic.

"Listen to him, learn from him, Harry, his teaching will be a great asset to you, do you understand"

"I'm not going back to Hogwarts?" feeling a slight twinge of sorrow before dismissing it. 

"No, not yet"

"Salazar called me 'Septimus', why?"

"That would have been your name, had we remained true to our heritage. It is a name I gave you secretly when I implanted this memory into your mind. Your full, true, name is Septimus Argus Slytherin," he said with a hint of pride.

Harry tried to pull together what little Latin he knew, "Seventh watchful Slytherin? And isn't 'Argus' Filch's name?" sounding somewhat disgruntled. 

James Potter laughed, "Close enough, my son, and yes. Argus was a god with eyes covering his body" the image faltered for a moment, the air around them wavering. James' face lost its amusement and he reached out a hand as if to caress his sons' face. Hesitating he drew back his hand, "You must go now, Septimus, you've got a lot to learn"

"Yes, father"

Harry felt himself hit the carpeted floor again, had he left? Shrugging away the thoughts he ran a hand through his hair absently. 

"Come, your lessons begin now" Sensing hesitation Salazar turned around and gave his heir a sharp look. "What is it?"

"If your dead… then where...how?" he motioned around him at the room, and their furnishings.

"When I died my spirit was confined to a place only my true heirs could find. But I felt the need to retrieve you, before Tom had a chance. If I had hesitated any longer…" Salazar trailed off, as if suddenly becoming aware of the scars of Harry's face. "Those are not from Tom" 

Harry likewise remembered his marred features and a hand flew up to feel two scars parallel on his left cheek. His eyes dimmed for a moment while his other hand traced the long jagged scar that ran from his right eye down his throat and disappearing down his collar. "But, the Glamourie charm" Harry muttered to himself, perplexed. 

"All charms must have fallen away when you came back from the pensieve. It is called a Truth Pensieve, it shows the truth, and is quite handy in getting undestorted memories. Perhaps it sensed the Glamourie, and did what it was made to do, showed the truth" Salazar wanted to press Harry for answers, but decided against it, sensing that the boy didn't want to talk about it.

Something tugged at the back of Harry's mind and finally, before Salazar could ask questions he preferred not to answer, queried, "When will I return to…the living world?"

"When you have finished your training. For every year you spend here, it is six months there. You will return in six years our time, three theirs. Now if we might get started?"

Nodding his head, Harry started after him, but paused. Bringing out his wand again he tapped it to each of his scars and muttered a quick spell. A warm, tingling sensation swept over his face and with a tentative hand, swept it over smooth, unmarred skin. With a grunt of satisfaction he followed his ancestor through the archway and down a long sweeping hallway. 

*~*~*~*~*

Thank you to my reviewers: 

Byproduct of evil 

Tweety is cool

Slytherin Damien- LOL I was about to upload this chapter when I received your review. And yes I edited it, it was much to short for my liking. My original idea was to have him go _back _in time, to have Salazar train him, but then I changed my mind and inbetween all my other fics, my brain got muddled and I started spouting nonsense(see my fic 'I'm Not that Naïve', for conformation). Therefore, I'm still deciding where to go with this. But I'm still liking the idea of it being dark. I'm weird that way. 

Lady Phoenix Slytherin- ok, now it's getting freaky, I had just finished writing the above comment when I received YOUR review.

* Shameless Plug *

Go read my other fics…please? Even if you tell me it's the worst stuff you've read, hey, at least you _read_ it eh? 


	3. Confusion & Losses

Weathered Creed~

Chapter 2: Confusion

The wizarding world was in an uproar. Harry Potter was gone from his bed, gone without a trace. Rumors ran rampant through the newsstands that the Dark Lord was involved, the boy-who-lived had finally cracked, or even a large part of the universe had been obliviated and there _was_ no Harry Potter. 

Rita Skeeters' articles were on high demand, claiming all sorts of ideas from the ridiculous to the plausible. One day she penned that poor young, naïve Harry had been knocked off his rocker, and was currently to be found in St. Mungo's, another day she claimed he had joined He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and was currently raising Hippogriffs in Sweden.

Hogwarts wasn't any better. The professors tried there best to calm the students whilst trying to figure out how he had gotten through the wards. Draco Malfoy was sure Potter had gone man, while Ron was equally convinced Snape had something to do with it. 

"I'll kill him I will!" he cried in outrage, shaking his fist angrily in the Griffindor common room. Hermione was sitting next to him, pale and confused. 

She had spent several days and nights pouring over every text on Appartition, and Hogwarts. But the books gave her no answers, only questions. Yawing, she leaned back, brushing away a loose strand of hair she told Ron to be quiet, "he's loyal to Headmaster Dumbledore, remember?" she said as she pulled him into a secluded corner. 

"It doesn't hide the fact that he's a death eater!" Ron hissed back, angry that Hermione wasn't seeing the logic in all of this. Snape hated Harry with a vengeance, why wouldn't he want him removed from his life? 

"But he's loyal! Professor Dumbledore trusts him!"

"He's made mistakes before! Remember what Harry told us? He said that Dumbledore had _told_ him that he had made a mistake! So what if he's made more, what if he is _making _one!"

Hermione shook her head, "that was different!" 

"So what do you think? He just went nutter on us?! That he just got up and left?" Rons asked angrily. 

"No! But we aren't looking at everything here, we have to approach this logically"

"All right, _Sherlock_, what are you saying?"

"I mean if it was professor Snape, don't you think he would have high tailed it out of here? Sticking around with your nemesis, I mean to say professor Dumbledore, would not be very wise"

"So, Snape was desperate?" 

Hermione shook her head, "No, professor Snape is Slytherin" Ron stared at her dubiously and shaking her head impatiently continued, "He hasn't got the password, and he doesn't even know where the Griffindor rooms _are_!"

"Oh" Ron said slowly, letting the information sink in. 

"Exactly" 

"Then…what happened to Harry?"

"I don't know Ron, I just don't know" she leaned back against the back of the chair heavily. 

Ron observed her critically, noting how she let her posture slip, the dark circles under her eyes, and the way her hair fell limply on her shoulders. "You're tired, go to sleep" 

She gave him a faltering smile, "taking care of me now, Ronald?"

"Oi now, don't think I'm going to let that kind of thing go unanswered for!" but before he could continue she brushed by him on the way to the girls dormitories.

"Night Ron"

He watched her go, feet shuffling, up the stairs before whispering after her, "night, 'Mione"

*~*~*~*~*

It's short I know, but I've been busy honest! 


	4. The Applicant

Chapter Three: The Applicant 

Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall watched him approach steadily, left hand in his pocket, the right swinging at his side casually. He was a dark and imposing man with sleek black hair cascading down is back, green eyes glittering eerily. A peculiar scar stretched from his hairline dragging down over his right eye, continuing down his cheek until it disappeared out of site beneath his collar. He was wearing dark velvet green robes, black slacks and likewise a black silk vest. He stopped a few feet away, nodding his head and addressing both wizards formally.

"I'm afraid you have us at a disadvantage, stranger, who do we have the pleasure of becoming acquainted with?" Albus queried. 

The beginnings of a smirk momentarily crossed his features before it disappeared, "Concerned for the safety of your precious students as always, Headmaster?" he inclined his head "Septimus Argus Scyth, at your service" 

"Intriguing name" he said, eyes searching for some hint.

The corner of his lip twitched before replying, "With an intriguing story"

"One that I hope one day to hear"

"Of course, perhaps over some tea? Or perhaps some lemon drops? Your taste for muggle sweets is legendary"

Albus Dumbledore watched the man carefully, such a strange man! Who was he? Where did he come from? Was he a servant of the Dark Lord? 

He threw the thought away, if he meant harm, he couldn't have passed the boundaries. All the same, he was a rather peculiar wizard. 

Inside his warm, inviting office Dumbledore sat on his scarlet high back chair sipping tea and watching the newest member of his school with rapt attention. 

It seemed strange to sit there ever so calm, watching the other man down the truth vertiserum potion, as if it was something he did frequently. When the last drop was drained from the silver goblet, the headmaster watched as strangely familiar green eyes slightly glazed, never losing their intensity. 

"What is your true name?"

"Septimus Scyth"

"Do you mean harm to the students or faculty at this school for witchcraft and wizardry?"

"No"

"Do you serve the dark lord?"

"No"

"Whom do you serve?"

"My self"

The headmaster stared a long moment at the silent figure before him.

"I see…"

"Do you plan on taking over the wizarding or muggle world at any time?"

"No"

"What would you be qualified to teach?"

"Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, and Herbology"

"Where did you acquire your knowledge of such thing? Durmstrang?" 

"No, I received training from my family"

"Drink this"

Septimus obediently accepted the goblet of lilac colored liquid. Immidietly his glazed eyes cleared, and he blinked at the Headmaster who smiled, customary twinkle in place.

"Welcome to Hogwarts, professor, if you'll follow me, the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom is this way"

~~~

Thanks to my reviewers! I know it's short, and I'm sorry, but I'll try really hard on the next chapter! I promise!


	5. Professor Syth

The weeks passed by quickly and soon Harry could hear the dull sounds of the students coming through the Entrance door. With a loud heavy creak the Great Hall's doorway was swung open and he was present with a mass of black cloth and various happy pink faces.

After everyone was seated and the noise of chattering students magnified to an almost unbearable level, professor McGonagall marched in and announced the first years. The sorting hat belted out its song and Harry watched as each student was sorted. He remembered reverently the day he had been sorted. It seemed so long ago yet only the other day. Nervous, quiet and not understanding anything around him he must have been a sight.

"Now before he begin the feast, I have a few start of term notices!" Dumbledore's voice rang through the hall and everyone watched him expectantly. "First, I would like to introduce our newest addition to Hogwarts. Professor Scyth!" Several people clapped uncertainly but most everyone stared. Harry had long become accustomed to the scars marring his face but to anyone else, he might understand how they would be a bit of a shock. "Also, our care taker, Mr. Filch would like to impress upon you the list of hallway conduct posted just out side the door. The Forbidden Forest is, as always, forbidden! Now, let us eat!"

Harry watched as the empty golden dishes suddenly bloomed with food and quickly filled his plate.

Dinner was, as usual, a noisy affair with much laughter as the students caught up on each other's lives. Professor Sinestra, who sat on his right, engaged him in conversation about the comet that would pass in several days.

"Mr. Weasley! If I have to tell you one more time not to set of that fire work in my class you will be faced with more than just a month of detentions…" Harry's voice dropped dramatically low and his murky green eyes drilled holes in the red head before him

The fourth year boy blushed scarlet at being caught again and surreptitiously put the offendingly bright object back into his bag.

"Now as I was saying; the werewolf, while dangerous in it's Lunar form, is perfectly harmless as a human. True or false?"

A boy with a dark complexion in the second row raised his hand.

"Yes, Mr. Thomas?"

"True?"

"No," said Harry.

Jacob Thomas looked confused, "But sir, he doesn't have the ability to transfer his disease to anyone in his human form."

"True." Harry conceded with a slight nod of his head.

While Jacob tried to puzzle out the riddle his professor had given him Harry turned to the rest of class. "Can anyone tell me why a werewolf in his natural, human, form is still dangerous?"

"Because they still hold some of the werewolf's traits? Like sense of smell and hearing?" A girl with curly brown hair suggested.

"Very good, but not quite, three points to Ravenclaw. What else?"

The class remained silent and Harry with a wave of his wand created two images. Both were human and about the same height and were dressed in wizarding robes.

"Clue number one. Any takers? No? OK then, clue number two." Harry waved his wand again and one of the figures turned into a werewolf. With another wave of his wand the wolf was replaced with the man again."

"You can't tell which one is the werewolf by looking at their human form?" A boy with glasses and perfectly cut hair said with half raised hand.

"No. Give up?"

The class stared at the two beings hard in concentration eventually all meeting his gaze in defeat.

"There is no human on earth, or off, that is perfectly harmless. Every human may grow up in a well balanced home, and live the perfect life and Tuesday morning they go to work, pick up the groceries, kill a random person on the street, and go home. Why?"

"Bad day at the office?" Several students snickered.

"Perhaps. Or perhaps because he is human. A human is one, if not the most, dangerous creature we know of. He is able to think, feel emotions, judge, and make choices. He is a freethinking individual that is allowed to walk the streets without consideration. Professor Lupin, for example. A known werewolf that has substituted many times. I'm sure you are all familiar with his infection?" the students nodded. "Yet he is a perfectly calm, and quiet individual who has a peaceful nature and quick thinking mind. Then, we have people like Hitler, Stalin, or…Voldermorte, who are not werewolves yet each had a price on his head at one time or another. They, while lacking in the werewolf department, showed an affinity for violence, and brutal hatred.

"That is not to say that werewolves are all wonderful people. You are, I trust, familiar with the man Hugo Canis? He is a werewolf and a very dangerous man at that. He, while not quite at the level of Voldermorte, is a violent man not prone to take the segregation of the wizarding world lightly. Just last full moon, he and his supporters organised and executed an assassination attempt on several key officials in the Ministry. Luckily, they failed and several key supporters were arrested.

"Segregation is powerful thing in the world you know of today. It affects many things that you wouldn't normally think it would. A man may be the best of something but because of his disease, blood, race, or political orientation, he is denied a job where he might have proven invaluable.

"Pureblood wizards, wealthy ones in particular, are also keen on the idea of segregation, truly believing that one is not perfect if they do not hold the right name, or genes. Stemmed from this is a disregard for the rules in diplomacy, decency, and discretion. Anyone who supports the belief that one is better than another based on one's title, name or rank concerning purity of blood is a tactless fool.

"Your assignment will be a two foot essay on Segregation, and how any human, despite blood, is as dangerous if not more so than the next. Included references to muggles will be awarded with an extra three points."

"Merlin, what was I thinking?" he said to himself after his fourth year drifted out the door. Becoming a professor was probably one of several of his more idiotic ideas. It was the end of class and after staring at the pile of essays that had mounted on top of his desk he scowled and dipped his quill in ink.

Four or maybe it was five hours later Harry finished the last essay and rubbed his tired eyes. It really wasn't at all logical for the wizarding world to use candles as their only source of lighting. Perhaps he could smuggle in a few electrical appliances, preferably light bulbs or torches. At any length, he couldn't last this way.

Harry had long ago done away with his spectacles, preferring the freedom of not having to worry about breaking them or fixing them. Toying with the fringe of hair that covered his scar he let his eyes relax on the shadows playing on the walls. In many ways it distinguished him from the boy he had once been. While he still resembled James Potter with his nose and chin, many of his other features were considerable dulled by age and Lily's bone structure. Without the glasses he hardly resembled the boy he had been years before. Still, looking in a mirror or catching his reflection was slightly odd for the first several days. From the first couple days of his arrival on the living plane, he had come to appreciate the amount of time that had gone by.

This was another thing. Time. How many years had gone by on this plane? Seven? He ran a hand recklessly though his long hair and sighed. Harry Potter had simply vanished of the face of the earth and no one had a clue as to where. His old classmates, friends who had stood by him through many hazards, were now well into their lives. The hope that the boy-who-lived still lived was scarce if in existence at all. Harry realised with amusement that Albus Dumbledore now had no champion with which to match against Voldermorte.

And therein lay another problem. The Dark Lord himself still resided in the world at large. He and his supporters were still out wrecking havoc and still fighting to gain control of the world as far as he knew. The Daily Prophet confirmed his belief that the Ministry had finally recognised the threat for what it was. Fudge, in his all his glory, was rallying for morale and bloating every victory to be had no matter how minimal.

Harry had mixed opinions on his. Firstly the Minister was an idiot for treating this volatile situations with slander and seemingly lack of tact. Secondly, he was keeping the masses calm and satisfied that they were well enough out of the way of the war. While it was good to not have hordes of screaming people stampeding the Ministry and a general panic amongst the citizens, it was not good to treat these people as delicate children. The people had to know that it wasn't going to go away. But at least they now knew Voldermorte was out there.

Septimus Scyth mused over what Albus' Order might be doing, and if Severus still held his place as its spy. The role of spy was never easy, Harry knew this from his training and marvelled at how the older man was still sane as well as alive. Salazar had been intensely interested in the dour Potion Master and even more so when he learned of the role he played.

"Are you sure?" the dark wizard had queried with surprise and suspicion. "This is a Snape we are speaking of?"

Harry remembered explaining that the man had saved his life on many occasions though he made it clear that he detested him. They would spend hours puzzling over every detail that Harry had observed in his time with the living. The questions and ideas behind each word, look, and thought were disturbing and before long Harry began to realise he had more in common with the man than he would have originally suspected. And that had certainly been something to think over.

But the snarky wizard hadn't been the only one to be the centre of attention of such scrutiny. One of the more important lessons that Salazar had taught him was the importance of knowing everyone around him inside out. And thus the enigma of Albus Dumbledore was probed and prodded. Salazar suggested the old man was an empath or some sort powerful dark wizard. Harry had nearly fallen off his chair at the idea of the dotty old coot wielding dark magic but as their discussions continued the idea seemed much more likely than Harry was comfortable with.

Reviews!

Tweetyiscool, jordan, Hermione Green, LadyPhoenixSlytherin, athenakitty, JadedAngel8, ckat44,meamz, slimpun, HecatDeMort, Sarah R Potter, Snake Dynasty, sab, cmn, jeangab057

SlytherinDamian- Scyth, I picked it cause it sounded like a hiss

ByProductofEvil- Truth Serum (veritserum)

Anora- well the point is that he tried to shut off emotion and he thought he was, but in truth he was just in a state of shock you could say. But it was subdued and at the same time incredibly intense if that makes any sense at all.

Padawan Jan-AQ- Well if it isn't my favorite review. Oops my bad wink It does indeed

henriett- lol, your questions will be answered in due time- sorry no slash

eavening- yes that occurred to me as well but I think that Albus is a moron what can I say?


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